Monday, January 24, 2011

Travel Diary: India, October 15th, 2010


The sun has disappeared now to my left and we're sitting on the roof of our $4 hotel staring straight at the Taj Mahal, the only obstruction to our view is 6 or so low layers of crumbling homes and some children unsuccessfully attempting to climb the wall enclosing the grounds of the monument. The Taj is a sandy white beige hue, fuzzy now shrouded in a film of grayish brown haze like all of India, like the film ever-present on top of their Chai. The contrast of rich and poor is starkest here, this view really encompassing both angles. Someone is blasting Indian music from open windows that never close, our long forgotten soundtrack.

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Born and raised under the Los Angeles sun and smog. At sixteen spent some time in LA County Juvenile Detention Center, although never really learned her lesson. Moved to Boston for the classic college experience. Spray painted graffiti in the Paris Metro during six month stay in the Marais. Survived an ultra fabulous and frightening internship at Vogue Magazine while living at a nunnery in Hell's Kitchen. Lived a year in Seoul, a city which can only be compared to a Disneyland theme park. Written four hundred sixty-four words of an undisclosed masterpiece novel. Currently pondering her next adventure and also the meaning of her memoirs from an artist's loft in dirty Brooklyn.